Humility and Humanity, Lessons of Life, book 1
by Weijyan
Summary: A young demon hunter is sent from his monestary in search of answers that elude him inside its protective walls.
1. Chapter 1

Silence nestles softly in the monastery's courtyard. The grass, dark and dry, gives way to the sandstone tiles, smoothed by the wind, marking a path from the monastery's main building through the courtyard. A solid ring sounds, startling the brown eared pheasants that move lazily through the dry grass. Unable, truly, to fly, they glide away from the source of the offending sound.  
  
A second ring course through the massive courtyard, metal on metal, bringing the monks who live and worship here out. What they see does not surprise them.  
  
"Wusheng is at it again." one monk says, shaking his cleanly shaven head.   
A second monk, joining him, sighs. "How many this time?"  
The monk pauses briefly before answering. "All of them."  
  
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Three men stand, weapons drawn, ready to fight their enemy, if they can find an opening. The first stands well over six feet tall. Dark blue silk covers his legs and waist, a sash of similar color crosses his waist. A heavy battle axe rests in his hands, balancing against the pull of his over-sized muscles. A tuft of black blonde hair shows on the humans head. A thick layer of sweat covers the heavy muscles of his exposed chest.  
  
The second, wielding a gim, is smaller, more agile, than the first. His long, silver hair is pulled back into a tail, and hangs to the small of his back. His silvery-blue skin marks him as a moon elf. The course cotton suit he wears is a deep brown that seems to blend in with the very land around him. His stance is strong and sure as he holds the blade before him.  
Thick blonde hair runs from the top of his head, down to the bottom of his jaw, and hangs just below his shoulders. His thick broad sword and fair skin marks him as a westerner, one of the few ever allowed to stay in the monastery. His heavily muscled frame and strange fighting style, remnants of his time as a captain of an army in a place called Waterdeep, often is too much for his enemies here.  
  
A blur of golden blonde hair streaks past the first warrior as he tries to draw a bead on his opponent. Thinking he has the pattern of his enemy solved, he brings his heavy battle axe down, only to find the ground. A second warrior, this one with a gim, a slender long sword, slashes just above the axe in nearly the same instant. The target, though, manages, some how, to twist and spin out of the sure death.  
  
In a blur of red and gold, he throws himself into the air backwards, turning and flipping, before extending his leg to bring down third combatant, the foreigner. Landing in a spin, he takes two spinning steps, causing his long, braided hair to spin about him, making a loop around his neck and hanging over his shoulder, neatly out of the way.  
  
The two remaining warriors look at each other, then at the fifteen other warriors that lay, groaning, on the sandstone and rough grass. Weapons lay strewn about the courtyard, making acrobatics dangerous. They look back at their enemy. His momentum played out, he can be seen clearly for the first time since the battle had begun.   
  
The light blonde hair plays of his darker, golden skin. Two large dao, each nearly the same size as the wielder, play lightly in the hands of this strange elf as he widens his stance, preparing for the attacks of the two that remain. The red and yellow silk that covers most of his body is met and matched by the red sash at his waist. The gim at his side marks him as a Lieren-Mogui, a demon hunter of lesser rank.  
  
The first warrior, with the battle axe rushes in, blade leading the way. With a vicious slash, the axe drops hard. Spinning to the side, Wusheng narrowly misses being hit and his hair stands out from his body. The end of his braid connects with the big mans forehead with surprising force, staggering him.   
  
The moon elf, not pausing for a moment, comes in, gim first. The sun elf continues his spin, bringing his left leg up and connecting his heel with the forearm of the attacking elf. Before he can press his attack, though, the large man grabs him from behind, throwing him over his shoulder. The elf's dao drop to the ground, one clanking against the sandstone.  
Twisting his body with the throw, the sun elf lands in a dive and rolls twice before coming to his feet to meet the charge of the moon elf. Twisting to the side to avoid the thrust of the slender long sword, he grabs the thrusting wrist, forcing it to continue moving forward, as he steps back with it, dropping his dantian, his center of balance, where the qi is held.   
The moon elf's eyes open wide in shock as he's pulled half-way past the sun elf. With the momentum of the strike added to his own, the sun elf lets go of the wrist and his palm connects with the moon elf's chest. Stepping forward, pushing his qi out, he extends his arm, just shy of full extension, sending the moon elf tumbling through the air to land hard on the grass many feet away. He lay there and groaned, unable to stand again to continue his fight.  
  
The large man, the only one now standing against this elf, seems to have lost the will to fight. He stays, though, with his battle axe before him. With a screaming battle cry, he charges in with the axe held high. Stepping to the side, the sun elf's fist connects with the knuckles of the large man, sending the battle axe spinning away. With a quick grab, the elf twists the large mans wrist, locking it tight and dropping him to his knees, which brings his face level with the elf's. The elf's right hand streaks in, a blur of motion, aimed for the mans throat...  
  
... And stops just touching it.  
  
In disgust, the elf pushes the large man away from him.  
  
"This was supposed to be a challenge." he says, unable to hide his low opinion of his opponents. "You are all supposed to be my superiors." With a snort, he stalks off to collect his blades.  
  
------  
  
"You wished to see me, Shao-sifu?" the sun elf asks later. The room he's in is fairly spartan, by most peoples standards, with only a minimum of furniture. To Wusheng, though, it was the most lush room he had ever seen.  
  
A shelf made of dark wood rests against three of the four walls, lining the room at waist level for the man who it belongs to. Numerous candles illuminate the room, showing dozens, maybe even over one hundred, leather bound books lining the shelf. In the center of the room rests a thick cushion, surrounded by wooden scrolls, tools for calligraphic carving, even a brush and ink and expensive papyrus scrolls, a rarity here, brought by the warrior from Waterdeep as a gift to the master of the monastery.  
  
Resting in the thick cushion was Shao-sifu, master Shao Yun Ng. The man, despite being human, was nearly as old as Wusheng, who was just shy of his first century of life. In his youth, he had been a demon hunter, one of the few to survive more than 30 years of the work. He had earned the greatest title possible, Fu Yao Da Chia, the great demon catching hero. Now, he was the master of the monastery and, quite possibly, the only one here Wusheng felt was worth his respect. Even at his great age, he could still use his demons sword better than most of those he had fought earlier this afternoon.  
  
Shao's face was wrinkled, his hair, stark white, showing his immense age. His dark blue silken clothing was dirty, showing that, despite his age and position, he still did his share of the work around the building.  
  
"Yes, Wusheng." he says softly. "I saw your sparring session this afternoon."  
  
Wusheng practically beams. He fully expects his master to tell him how impressed he was with the fight.  
  
"You fought well." the elderly master says. "You have the potential to become Fu Yao Da Chia. However..."  
  
The addition of 'however' gave the sun elf pause. iHowever what?/i he wondered. iWhat could I have possibly done wrong? I fought nearly flawlessly./i Then it dawns on him.  
  
"I apologize for allowing myself to be thrown and disarmed, sifu. I will do better next time." He bows his head, staring hard at the floor in shame.  
  
The old man merely chuckles, drawing a confused look from the relatively younger elf.  
"There is more to being a demon hunter than being a great fighter." the old man says.  
  
"I have been studying the Wan Gui Yao." the elf insists. The Wan Gui Yao, the book also known as i"Essentials of the Ten Thousand Infernals"/i, lists most known demons, their powers, and their known or suspected weaknesses. "As well as studying the languages you asked me too."  
  
"Have you been studying the languages of the humans?" the old man asks.  
  
"Sifu... They are not considered demons now, are they?" Wusheng asks confused.  
  
"No, no. I asked you to study their languages, though."  
  
"Why? What possible use for the human tongue could I have? I can speak, read, and write two elven languages, as well as Baatezu common and Tanar'ri."  
  
The old man sighs. "I think, young Wusheng, that it is time you learn that for yourself. I have a mission for you."  
  
Wusheng nearly jumped, he was so excited. Most demon hunters would only track three or four demons in their whole life, if that many. To be sent on a mission at his early age was surely a sign of greatness.  
  
"I wish you to hunt the Subarashii no Oni."  
  
Wusheng nearly collapsed. The Subarashii no Oni is a demon so great that none that track it have ever found it. In his native tongue, the demon is called Diyu-dailai, the hell bringer. Master Shao, though, is from Kozakura, an island off the coast of Shou Lung, and he still uses their language.   
  
Many who track the Diyu-dailai disappear, vanish completely with-out a trace. No one even knows what it looks like, or if it really exists. Stories of it are plentiful, though. As with any legend, though, one must sift through the garbage, the lies, and the simple mistakes, to find the truth, if any exists.  
  
"Word of it surfacing in the Yehimal mountain range has reached me." the old master says. "You will go there and investigate." The old man pauses for a moment, then grasps the gim at his side.   
  
"Take this." he says, holding it before him.   
  
iWu Yao Gim.../i Wusheng thinks, knowing the name given the blade and the story behind the blade. It is said to have been created by Tyr, a human deity from the west, for the sole purpose of hunting demons. It was handed down from hunter to hunter for centuries before being offered to a Shao master demon hunter. The original appearance of the sword is said to be similar to the heavy blade the westerner from Waterdeep uses, but it changes to fit the owner. For the last three hundred years, it has been a gim, the slender long sword of the area, as is the preferred weapon for demon hunters of the monastery.  
  
"Sifu.." he says, unable to bring himself to grasp the jade inlaid handle. It is his masters prized possession.   
  
"Take it, or I will beat you with it." the old master says, a trace of humor entering his voice.   
  
Wusheng merely nodded. He never understood his masters sense of humor, or any humans, for that matter. The grasp of the blade, the weighting of it, feel so natural, so balanced that it's as if it has grown straight from the elf's hand. Staring at the blade, he sees the blood groove is also inlaid with jade and 'Kuni' crystals.   
  
The jade is said to help protect from the touch of the undead, as well as cause it severe pain. The kuni crystals prevent them from regenerating, healing their wounds unnaturally.  
  
"Gather your gear." the master says, interrupting his thoughts. "You will leave in the morning."  
  
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Translations can be found at http://wuyausu.homestead.com/home.html under glossary 


	2. Chapter 2

Authour's notes -   
  
Well, due to the fact that something went wrong with the html coding for the first chapter, reversing the in front of the code to a , I am going back to my old stand-by of lines with-in the *stars* being thoughts.  
  
  
"Shao-sifu, are you sure about this?" The voice was deep, rumbling through the masters room. The speaker is the large foreigner that had fought Wusheng the day before. Garth Axeblade is his name. He spent five years working for the city of Waterdeep, far to the west. He had, over time, found that his life was missing something, and had set off in search for this elusive need. He wound up here, at a monastery a few miles outside of Kuo Te'Lung, three years ago and has long since become a trusted adviser to Master Shao.  
  
He stood besides Shao Yun Ng, his nearly seven feet in height towering over the much smaller master. He was, in fact, much more intimidating, physically. Yet, when one looked at the two of them standing next to each other, there was no doubt who was more the master. They were looking out the window, watching the figure in the distance disappear into the sunrise.   
  
"Very sure, Garth." the master says, at length. "Wusheng is very skilled, but he is lacking in the very basics of what it means to be a demon hunter. Humility and humanity."  
  
"I agree, sifu, but to send the boy after the Subarashii no Oni..." the big man begins.  
  
"He will find it not." the master interrupts Garth, knowing where the warrior is going.   
  
"I would not underestimate his ability to track demons, sifu."  
  
The old man laughs. "I do not."  
  
Garth looks at the sifu confused, fearing the man's mind to have finally given into his age.   
  
"Oh, do not look at me like that, Garth. You should know me better than that."  
  
The large man finally grasps what the old master has done. "There was no report of the demon." he says at last.  
  
"Very good. And when Wusheng fails to find and capture the demon, he will understand that he has failed. Having failed, he will be humbled and will understand."  
  
  
  
The wind blows its welcome warmth over Wusheng. The sun had just risen, and the air still had a chill to it, even for elves who normally do not notice such trivial temperature changes. With his trusted dao strapped to his back, and Shao-sifu's prized gim at his side, he left the monastery for the first time in almost 5 years.  
  
Well, not quite. He left regularly to hunt for the other monks, who's skills in the woods were lacking. But, never farther than that. He found himself feeling something completely knew to him. Fear. Fear of the journey between him and his target. Once he arrived in the Yehimal mountains, he would be back to his own business, what he has been trained to do, hunt demons. After that, he would return to the monastery.  
  
*But, between here and there, there is so much.... uncertainty.* he thinks. Shaking his mind clear, he travels on, following a branch of Hungtse, a major river that crosses all of Shou Lung.   
  
The area around the monastery is lush and green, leading Wusheng to, once more, wonder why the structure was built where it was. In fact, there was a jungle, which the elf is traveling through now, less than an hours walk from the monastery. Yet, it was built where the land cannot support plant life.  
  
Looking around at the giant panda resting in a tree nearby. A crested ibis, a rare bird, and growing rarer as it is hunted for it's fine feathers, flies past the elf, it's song floating peacefully in the air. This brings a smile to Wusheng's face, as it would any elf, as he makes his way towards the Yehimal mountains.  
  
As the sun continues to rise behind him, the day begins to warm and Wusheng settles into what he knows to be a long trip.  
  
  
  
Three days of quiet travel, and Wusheng leaves the pleasant travel of the jungle behind him. In the near distance, Hungtse, the main body of the river, sounds loudly, telling him of his progress. The border of Shou Lung rests only another days travel past this river. In two days, he'll be in Tabot.  
  
Walking through the quiet grasslands, the elf starts to look for supplies for building a float to get across the strong waters of Hungtse. A sudden scream from just over the next hill draws his attention. Rushing up the hill, the elven warrior-priest skids to a stop just as quickly.   
  
A young woman stands, trying to support man, human both. Surrounding them are three creatures with the bodies of serpents, but the upper torso like that of a human, though they have longer, pointed ears of many other races. Each carries a naginata and slithers around the pair of humans, taunting them.  
  
*Shinomen Naga. Asps.* he adds, looking closer. *Not my problem.* Wusheng thinks, until he notices that it is along his path. He is likely going to encounter the creatures, so he might as well do it when he has the humans for a distraction.  
  
A dao in his right hand, his pack off his back and in his left, he moves down the hill. Just before reaching the naga, he drops his pack and draws his second dao. With his natural speed and stealth, the first asp naga never saw him coming as his first dao pierces the creatures neck, nearly severing it completely.  
  
The five remaining naga turn on the new comer. One, the closest, charges the elf, thinking him to be an easy target. Wusheng raises a dao as if to block the naginata. Seeing this, the naga adds more force into the strike. The elf, though, pivots to the side, never intending to block the heavier weapon. The heavy pole arm buries deep into the ground, slightly over-balancing the snake-man. More importantly, his head is exposed. Wusheng, continuing his pivot, gains more momentum by dropping low. His second dao, in his left hand, digs deep into the skull of the naga, killing it instantly.  
  
Suddenly down to four, the remaining naga are more cautious. Asp Shinomen are not known for fleeing from a fight. Nor are they known for dying easily or fighting with-out thinking. Two of their number had already died to this elf, so it becomes time for strategy.   
The four naga spread out, keeping out of the elf's reach, surrounding the dangerous fighter. Moving in unison, they approach cautiously. Their plan is simple. Get in close enough for every one to strike at once. After all, the elf can dodge one naginata, but four at the same time?  
  
The elf watches the naga move around him, lowering and opening his stance to allow him to attack any direction. He's seen them do this before. They were using this tactic on the humans when he arrived. iBut, they do not realize I have seen it./i A wry grin, bordering on evil, crosses his lips as he begins to formulate a counter.   
  
He studies the way they all hold the weapons. *They all intend the same strike, likely at the same time.* he realizes. *A downward slash. Pathetic.* he decides at length. Waiting for the swing to start, sure he can avoid the much slower weapons, he steps forward, raising his dao, not in a block, but in a strike.  
  
The blade connects hard against the weapon, cutting through the shaft, dropping the blade to the ground. With his step forward, the elf is out of reach of the other three weapons, leaving him plenty of time to bring the second blade across the naga's throat.  
Turning, the elf squares himself against the three remaining attackers. They look at each other, uncertain, but none want to be the first to turn from the battle against a solo opponent. The shame it would bring them would be immeasurable. One naga suddenly has an idea, remembering the two humans. Turning quickly, it slithers full speed at them. Stopping just short, it presses the heavy blade of its naginata against the throat of the already injured man.  
  
"Ssstop fighting or I will kill them both." it says, struggling slightly with the language.  
  
The elf struggles for a moment. They were speaking in the human tongue, which he does not understand. Still, their intentions were clear. Wusheng merely shrugs. "I do not know either of them." he says, in the elven tongue, dismissing the threat. "Besides," he adds after a moments thought, "They are both human."  
  
The naga, unable to understand what the elf said, understands his attitude, though. *Clearly, it thinks, *this elf does not believe I am serious.* In a quick motion, the asp naga draws the blade of his naginata hard against the man's throat, cutting it nearly to the bone. The man falls silently, dead before he reaches the ground.  
  
The woman screams, drawing the attention of one of the closest naga from the elf. Not one to ignore an opportunity, Wusheng leaps forward, a dao cutting deep into the naga's neck. The other naga near him reacts by trying to sweep the elf's legs with his pole arm. Wusheng has another idea, though. The nimble elf leaps the blade, leaving the first naga in it's way. The weapon digs into the snake-man's torso, lodging between it's ribs.  
  
Having lost it's weapon, the asp naga tries backing away, but the elf is too fast. Two sprinting steps and he leaps, dao forming an 'x' before him. At the last instant, he snaps them closed tight, severing the naga's head from it's neck.  
  
The remaining naga, having just watched five of its fellow warriors die quickly, turns and slithers away as fast as it can. Fortunately for it, the elf decides that he has no reason to chase it down.  
  
  
  
Translations can be found at http://wuyausu.homestead.com/home.html under glossary 


	3. Chapter 3

Authour's notes -   
*Lines with-in the stars are thoughts*  
  
  
  
Wusheng camped for the night by the Hungtse river. He had helped the woman bury her companion, her husband, he assumed. He hadn't said anything to her the rest of the day, since he didn't speak the human tongue and it was unlikely that she spoke any elven tongues.   
  
Still, she stuck around, as if planning to follow him back to civilization. He was up with the sun, putting together his raft from the bamboo that grows in the area. He made it larger than he had to, so that he would be more stable in the fast moving current of Hungtse. The raft and pole ready, he prepares to begin the treacherous ride across when the woman walks up to him.  
  
"Kou Te'Lung is that way." he says in elven common, hoping that she would at least recognize the name of the town, as he points the way he came. She looks the direction he points, but does not seem to have any intention of going off alone. As Wusheng carefully sets the raft in the water, the woman climbs on.  
  
"No! Off!" he yells, motioning for her to clear the raft. *Obviously, she does not understand what I am saying,* he thinks, *but she cannot be this dense, even if she is a human.* Instead, she just sits in the center of the raft, looking at him with sad eyes.  
  
With a heavy sigh, he gives in. Grabbing the steering pole, he steps onto the end of the raft and pushes away from the shore. The flow of the river takes the raft quickly, pushing it down stream. The elf doesn't even try fighting it. Instead, he works to control their trip down stream, working their way to the other bank of the river.  
  
Several exhausting hours later, the raft strikes the shore on the west side of the river. It was actually a fairly easy trip, all things considered. Only once was there any trouble, when the raft was bucked hard and the woman was nearly thrown over. He still was not sure why, exactly, he kept her from falling over-board. Surely, it would have made the rest of his trip easier.  
  
Shaking his head, he dismisses the concerns as opportunities past. They rest at the west bank of the Hungtse for an hour before Wusheng surveys their position, ready to leave. The river had actually done them a favor. They were at least four hours walk closer to the Yehimal mountains than they would be if the river was slow.  
  
  
  
Night falls as the pair make camp at the foot of the mountain range, one of the highest, if not the highest, in all of Abeir-Toril. The young demon hunter is surprised to find that the woman is still keeping up with him, more or less. He had not slowed his pace until just prior to making camp, and yet, she is still here.   
  
She had tried speaking to him several times, but Wusheng did not understand her language. Looking at her, as they prepare to rest for the night, it is almost as if he notices her for the first time. He has to admit that he is pleased with what he sees.  
  
Her long, black hair hangs loose, framing her light complexion. Her almond eyes mark her as being from this region, at least on one side of her family, even as her light skin shows her western heritage on the other side. Her form is small and light, for a human, leaving her about his size. *Not overly voluptuous, but well proportioned.* he thinks.   
  
He finds himself smiling as he watches her lay just feet from him. She's a human. he reminds himself, forcing the thoughts from his mind. Looking at her once more, he realizes just how long of a night it's going to be.  
  
  
  
The sun rises early. Wusheng 'wakes' from his reverie an hour before. After cleaning the camp and inspecting his weapons for damage and rust, he wakes the woman. *One of theses days,* he thinks, *I must figure out her name.* She murmurs softly in the human language, then rolls over.   
  
A frown crosses his lips. Climbing the mountains to the Juupin monastery will be hard enough with out dragging along a human that doesn't wake when she should. He began to look around for something to wake her with that would get across his feelings about her over-sleeping.  
  
Looking around, he sees nothing that can be used this morning, though he does make plans for the next morning, if she's still with him. Grumbling, he stands over her and whistles loudly. A scream erupts from her lips as she practically jumps from the ground to her feet. The elf has to turn and walk to his pack to hide his smile as he bites back laughter.  
  
She yells something at him in the human language, Wusheng assumes it has something to do with is finding humour in scaring her. *She really sounds mad.* he thinks. *This is almost enough to make me wish I spoke human.*  
  
  
Translations can be found at http://wuyausu.homestead.com/home.html under glossary 


	4. Chapter 4

*Lines with-in the stars are thoughts.*  
  
  
  
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"   
  
Erin Sayomara's scream echoes off of the mountains, threatening an avalanche. She jumps up from her place near the fire, awakened suddenly by the intense cold that somehow had found it's way down the back of her shirt as she slept. Dancing around, she finally manages to shake the snow out of her tunic made of course wool.  
  
Turning on the sun elf she's been traveling with for the last two days, she sees him doing his best to look stern and not laugh. He points to the east and the sun peeking over the low horizon in the distance.  
  
"Yeah, yeah. It is dawn. I know." she grumbles. "I just pray to Tempus you know where you are going, because I am completely lost."   
  
As sad as it may be, this was her only hope. He seemed to try to give her directions that first day, but she never could understand the elven languages and he didn't seem to have a grasp of common. True, she had started to learn the language of Kozakura, the language of the father she never new, from her guide, but he was killed by those snake-things before she could learn much more than "Konnichiwa". Her guide insisted that it meant hello, but it could mean "I am a moron", for all she knows.   
  
Gathering her gear, she glances back at her impromptu guide, who's name she still does not know. She found that he had finally broken down into laughter. She couldn't help herself. Her soft laughter joined his. This morning ritual of waking her at dawn was starting to turn into a game. Now, all she had to do was figure out a way to play, herself.  
  
  
  
As they had for the last two days, they started climbing again before the sun was an hour into the sky. If the day continued like the two prior, they would climb until just after noon, take a short break, too short, in Erin's opinion, before resuming their climb until the sun disappeared, deep behind the mountains they were climbing.  
  
At the moment, they were at a particularly steep section. The elf had climbed up ahead of her, as he always does, and is reaching down now, waiting to help her up as she nears him.   
  
Several tense moments go by as she works her way up the face. The elfs sudden grasp on her forearm startles her briefly, and she nearly drops off. With the elf holding her left arm firm, pulling as she rose, she finally makes it to the top, a plateau, as it turns out.   
  
*Thank Tempus that I am in shape.* she thinks, remembering her reasoning to come to the utter east to begin with.   
  
  
  
She had been raised in Baldur's Gate, a large town north of Waterdeep. Her mother was making her living there selling trinkets. She knew growing up that she was different from the other children. The shape of her eyes and colour of her skin spoke of exotic lands. Even her last name, Sayomara, was strange, even by the standards of the adventurers who oft were found in her home town.  
  
Her father, she learned as she grew older, was a great warrior for a powerful lord in a far away land. Her mother rarely spoke of him, and never of how the two met. She was amazed she learned what she did from her.   
  
As time went on, she learned that her father had died strangely, leaving only her as an heir. Out of fear for her life, her mother had fled Kozakara, shortly after, when the government started persecuting foreigners.   
  
Still, her father was a master swordsman, with many students. It should not be hard, she figured, to find one to teach her the fighting style of her father. *After all,* she thought, *what good is a family fighting style if no one in the family knows it?*  
  
  
  
After helping the woman to the plateau, Wusheng look around. In the distance, on the far side of the plateau, rests the Juupin monastery.   
  
Even before they had walked half the distance between them and the monastery, Wusheng could feel something was wrong.  
  
"There is a darkness here." he says to the woman, even knowing she couldn't understand him. "It corrupts the very soul of the mountains."  
  
Looking back at the woman, he sees her nod. Despite not knowing each others languages, there was no doubt that, by the tone of her voice as she spoke in her native tongue, she felt it, too.  
  
*If the Diya-dailai has already taken the temple, it may be too late for anyone...* 


	5. Chapter 5

Authors notes: *Lines with in the stars are thoughts.*  
  
  
  
The pair approached the monastery cautously. Both could feel the corruption in the area, so strong that placing it was impossible. Not even Wusheng's training could find the source.  
  
They were greeted at the gates by a monk who, upon learning that Wusheng was from the Kuo Te'Lung monastery, brought him before Chiang Lu Wan, the master of the Yehimal monastery. The two are taken to the main hall, where the master awaits them.  
  
Chiang Lu Wan is an elderly man, though younger than Shao Yun Ng, Wusheng's own master. Like Master Shao, Chiang Lu Wan is a human, as are most of his diciples. His head is shaved completely, displaying the many wrinkles of his age. His course orange robes show him as a spiritual monk, not of the fighting sects.  
  
He rests on a soft cushion in the room, the soft glow of candles reflects off his soft skin, showing that, unlike Master Shao, he is generally inactive.   
  
Wusheng lowers himself to a knee, bowing his head before the master. Master Chiang nods slightly in recognition of the elf and bid him to sit. He then turned to the woman with the elf and spoke to her in her own language. She joined him sitting before the master.  
  
"You say you are from Kou Te'Lung." the old master starts. Wusheng nods briefly. "How is Kang-sifu?" he asks pleasently.  
  
The elf looks at him strangely. "There has been no Kang-sifu in monastery since I have been there, Chiang-sifu." he says, apologetically. "Shao-sifu was quite well, though, when I left."  
  
The old master smiles slightly and nods. He looks down at the blade that the elf is wearing at his waist. "Wu Yao Gim!" he yells. Four large human monks enter the room at their master's shout, staves in hand.  
  
"You say Shao-sifu is still well. I know he would never part with that sword on his life!" the master yells at the elf.  
  
The four large men begin to approach the elf, staves at the ready, trying to surround him. Wusheng sighs, standing quickly enough to startle guards who are now nearly close enough to attack. One lunges in, swinging at the elf.  
  
Leaping lightly to the side, Wusheng catches the end of the staff in his left hand. Punching through it with his right hand, the elf sends splinters of the waxwood across the floor. Continuing his forward motion, he plants his left foot behind the leg of the guard and strikes him in the chest with his left fist, knocking him from his feet.  
  
Even as the fighter bounces across the floor, three more warriors enter, heavy dao drawn. Wusheng's hand drops to Wu Yao Gim. The blade hums, almost pleasently, as it appears drawn in the elfs hand, almost as if by magic.  
  
Suddenly a blur of motion, Wusheng dives forward, a staff crashing into the floor where he just stood. Rolling to his feet, the elf brings his gim up, blocking a second staff, before bringing the palm of his hand hard against the knee of the monk. The monk grunts in pain, Wusheng had to give him credit for not screaming, at least, as he falls back, clutching his shattered knee. Rolling back, he narrowly avoids a heavy dao that would have removed his head from his shoulder.  
  
Rising to his feet, the demon hunter thrust his leg behind him, his heel connecting with the chest of the third staff wielder. The man goes down hard, colliding with a wall, then sliding to the floor. The gim comes up, even with his face, stopping a dao. In a blur of motion, the sun elf brings his left leg up and around, knocking the dao from the man's hand, following up with a turning kick to his temple, turning him, literally, upside down and knocking him unconcious.  
  
The momentum of his turn continued, and amplified, he unleashes a spinning kick with his left leg. His heel collides with the jaw of the last of the staff fighters, dropping him to the floor in an instant. Leaning over, his back parallel with the floor, Wusheng spins his sword over his chest, forcing one dao wielding warrior behind him to take a step back, and lining a second up for a thrust.   
  
Before he could follow through, though, the last swordsman attacks, forcing Wusheng to spin to the side. Using the motion of the spin, he snaps the handle of his gim out, sending the weighted tassels hanging from the end to arc out before him. The long tassels brush against the swordsmans eyes, forcing him to close them for a moment. A moment is all the elf needs, though, as he follows through with his braid, which connects harder than a length of hair should, opening a cut on the side of the warriors face.  
  
The elf continues his spins, adding to it even more, thrusting, first his left leg, followed quickly by his right, propelling him through the air and over the swing of a dao. Landing, he faces one of the two remaining fighters with a flurry of quick thrusts and slashes. Even as he begins to force an opening, though, the other swordsman lunges from the opposite side.   
  
The nimble elf steps to the side, purposely avoiding spinning now. These warriors were used to him using momentum attacks, so he would have to change his tactics. The heavy dao missing him by a hairs breath, the elf still uses the slight turn he made to add power to his strike as his arm spins out from him, connecting the top of his opened hand to the mans nose.  
  
He turns back to the last swordsman, thrusting hard. The man drops low, arcing his blade out to intercept. The blades, though, never touch as the fast elf reverses his motion with a turn of his wrist. His fist, sword still in hand, now lined up with the man's face, he unleashes a barrage of solid punches which drop the man to the floor.  
  
Turning back to the master, Wusheng is about to give his opinion of the master's hospitality when another warrior enters the room. A sigh escapes his lips as his gim comes up to block. *A gim!* he notices his opponents blade. *Does this mean I fight a demon hunter?* he wonders as he and his new opponent spin and thrust, jockeying for a striking position.  
  
Stalemated, unable to break through the others defense and attack patterns, the two break off at the same time. Coming to a stop three meters apart, they can finally get a good look at each other. *A female sun elf!?*  
  
This was quite unusual. Few women become demon hunters. Wusheng always assumed that it was simply unappealing to them. Fewer sun elves become demon hunters. It is usually a human obsession, driving the demons from these lands. Most elves believe that specific demons may need driven out, there will always be demons summoned by corrupt wizards and priests, so why make a living out of hunting them when you will make little, if any progress over a milleniums time. Not even elves live long enough to make much of a difference.  
  
A little younger than Wusheng, her long golden blonde hair is like-wise braided and looped around her neck. The slight pull at the end of her braid shows that she has a weight hidden, perhaps, even, a blade, like Wusheng has, with-in the end of her hair.  
  
"That is quite enough, Rising Dawn." The old master speaks loudly enough to be heard.  
  
Wusheng looked at him, suspician in his eyes. Looking at the woman that followed him here, he found her likewise confused, though, likely it was for the language differnences.  
  
"This was a test." Wusheng said accusingly.  
  
"Of course. If the Wu Yao Gim had been stolen, you would not have been able to draw it against your fellow demon hunters." He looks at the sun elf, who looks visibly angered. "I do not blame you for being upset, but, sit. There are things going on here that you should know of."  
  
------  
Translations can be found at http://wuyausu.homestead.com/home.html under glossary. 


	6. Chapter 6

*Lines with-in stars are thoughts.*  
  
  
The woman sat in silence as the old master speaks to her gold elven guide. Unfortunately, they were speaking some elfish language, and Erin simply couldn't understand what they were saying.   
  
*I hate being left out.* she thinks. Unable to follow the conversation, her mind drifts back to the fight she had just witnessed. The sheer magnatude of the battle threatened to over-whelm her. *Nine enemies, the elf had fought!* she thinks. The prospect took her breath away. She has sat, in stunned silence, watching as the sun elf defeated one, after another, after another, of the warriors. The speed and power with which they had moved frightened her more than a little. *And it all happened so fast..*   
  
Shaking her head, she forces the thought away. The thoughts that she could never learn to fight like that, that she could never be a suitable heir to her fathers fighting style.  
  
-------------  
  
"Of course, I felt the corruption when we approached." Wusheng says. There is no arrogance in his voice, for a change, despite the words he chooses to use. "Even the woman felt the corruption."  
  
The old master could do little more than nod, seeming embarrassed. Before Chiang Lu Wan could say anything, the sun elf speaks again.  
  
"What demon is this, that can corrupt even here?" He stared hard into Chiang-sifu's eyes. "Marilith? Balor?"  
  
The old man shakes his head, eyes locked on the ground. "Not all demons are so obvious." he says softly.  
  
The elf's patience was out. "Are you going to tell me what happened so I can help you, or are you going to sit there and wait for us both to die from old age?"  
  
Anger flares in Chiang-sifu's eyes. One does not generally speak to the master of the monastery in such a manner. As quickly as it appears, though, the anger vanishes. "Have you ever heard of Mogwai-Chiyou?" Chiang asks.  
  
Wusheng nods, suddenly silent. A mogwai-chiyou... A demon that can possess others so completely that it can not be detected through magic, usually. This explains much. the sun elf thinks. After all, a simple demon, even one as strong as a balor, would have a hard time standing against a whole monastery of demon hunters.  
  
Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, the demon hunter asks, "How long?"  
  
"Three weeks." the old man says. "I am surprised that Shao-sifu has heard of it so quickly, though I should not be. The man's instincts were always strong."  
  
Wondering if he should mention the Diya-dailai. Instead, he continues asking questions. "What was the first sign?"  
  
"Jiyoun Minzhou, a young warrior with us, was slain by unknown means." the old man tells the elf, head hanging low. "He was found outside the monastery, on the plateau."  
  
"May I see the body?"  
  
--------------------  
  
"What do you mean, it was cremated already?" The voice of the sun elf echoes of the walls of the crypt, reflecting his opinion.   
  
The elf stood in a large room, three stone tables rest towards the center. Sun light filters down into the crypt through a large crystal in the top of the ceiling, nearly three stories up, bathing the whole room with bright light. The light from the candles flicker, sending shadows dancing through the room.  
  
The crypt master, an elderly man, more so, even, than Master Chiang, with a complection that showed he spent too much time in the crypt and library.   
  
"There was worry of him rising as undead." His voice cracks as he looks up from his table.  
  
"Oh?" Wusheng almost actually sounded interested. "And why would that be?" The elf had noticed some things while entering the crypt that makes the threat of undead suspicious.   
  
The heavy steel door was reinforced on the outside with bars and beams so thick, a lone giant couldn't move them. It took 6 monks working with a series of pulleys to move them, allowing the door to open. Once inside, the beams fall back into place, blocking the door completely. No demon, even balors or the strongest oni, could rend the door. Only through use of a coded knock would the door be opened, and always with a large number of guards.  
  
With this system, there was no need for a key hole. Hardened leather skirts the outside of the door, preventing even air from passing through. This was to prevent vampires from the west, and there have been one or two who journeyed here, from turning to mist and filtering out. The large crystal in the top of the ceiling, which bathed the entirety of the room in brilliant light, even with only stars over-head, is magically warded to prevent evil, not just undead and demons, from approaching it. Wards are bound into the walls and door, likewise preventing evil from touching them.  
  
Now, he truely wished that he shared at least one language with the woman who's been traveling with him, just so he could speak to someone of his thoughts. With all this in place, A single undead in the crypt would have not lasted long. Even if it could survive the magical sun light for a brief time, it could not leave the room. Over time, the undead would be reduced to nothing with-out a single monk setting foot in the crypt.  
  
"The unusual nature of the death." the man answers. "It was deemed best to rid ourselves of the body as soon as possible, so to avoid any complications."  
  
"'Complications?'" the elf echoes. "Do your wards here work still?" The old monk nods and Wusheng continues. "Then, what complications could there be? Evil simply cannot leave this room."  
  
The old man merely shrugged, having no answer. "Chiang-sifu has been master here for many years. If he deemed it important to destroy the body immediately, then so be it."  
  
----------------------  
  
*So,* the elf thinks as he wanders down the hall, after leaving the crypt, *Chiang-sifu was the one to order the body destroyed. But why? Surely the master is too powerful to be possessed with-out someone noticing.* Shaking his head, he decides, *No. It must be some one else, but why start with a lower demon hunter, rather than the master or other skilled warriors who could cause him problems. Unless....*  
  
-----------------  
Translations can be found at http://wuyausu.homestead.com/home.html under glossary. 


	7. Chapter 7

"Shensheng bei dou..." The sun elf intones, his voice raised slightly. He was tracing a ward on the floor with sand as he chants. "Zhege yinzang baohu." He speaks in an ancient language used by demon hunters, for the last seven thousand years., to beseech the deities for aid.  
  
He finishes the seal and feels the energy pulse, leaving him and entering the demon ward. His shoulders sag, momentarily drained. The spell is a difficult one, even for accomplished clerics, let alone a young demon hunter. He smiles, pleased that the spell worked at all. It was the first time he had ever tried to cast it in an actual setting.  
  
Satisfied that the ward is in place, he looks back to the rest of the room he was given to use. A desk made of hard wood rests against the far wall, a window just above it. On the desk is a small pot of tea that the elf had requested earlier and a small piece of wood, folded in two, with several small black and white stones next to it. A hardwood bench rests before the desk. In the far corner rests a drawer of dark oak. Next to that rests a bed. *An actual western bed!* Wusheng thinks, excitedly. *Not even Shao-sifu has one of these! Now all I have to do is figure out what all these layers are for....*  
  
His daydream is interrupted by a slight chill that fingers its way across the elf's skin. He becomes suddenly alert to all of his surroundings.  
  
"Hello." he says softly. His eyes move from side to side, taking in the whole of the room in less than a second. He walks over to the desk, taking a seat on the bench, and pours himself a cup of tea. It takes a little effort, but he forces himself to be as casual as possible. "Come now. Show yourself."  
  
In the far corner, a soft outline of a man begins to appear. In moments, the figure is fully discernible. Dull orange robes drape over an emaciated body of dark green skin. It's head cleanly shaven, nine white dots, heavily faded, mark his skull. Long claws at the end of it's arms scratch gently at the air as it stares at the sun elf.  
  
"Nihao." the sun elf says, bowing slightly to the ghastly figure.  
  
The creature scrutinizes the elf for a moment before speaking in a hissing, whispering voice. "You know what I am?" it asks.  
  
Wusheng merely nods. "Jiki-ketsu-gaki." he says nonchalantly. "The spirit of a corrupted monk guilty of heresy."  
  
"And you know what sssuch ssspiritsss are like?" it asks, eyes narrowed.  
  
Again, the elf merely nods. "Jiki-ketsu-gaki are among the most evil spirits there are."  
  
"And all you sssay isss 'nihao?'" it asks. A sudden chill enters the room as it's filled with the creatures presence. Wusheng's stomach turns and it takes all of his willpower to not vomit, then turn and run as far away, as quickly, as he can. Instead, he does his best to look taken back by the question.  
  
"Oh, yes. Most inappropriate." he says softly. He slowly reaches over and picks up a small cup. "Would you care for some tea?"  
  
The surprise on the ghost's face is obvious. "You invite me for tea." it says, more than asks. He eyes the sun elf suspiciously. "You are armed." the ghost says at last.  
  
"Of course." the elf response casually. "You are, after all, Jiki-ketsu-gaki." A slight grin tugs at his lips.  
  
A sound not unlike a death rattle escapes the ghosts mouth as it laughs, likely for the first time since it died. It nods in agreement, then moves closer to the elf. Wusheng pours a cup of tea, then hands it to the ghost, before refilling his own cup. They sat in silence for a moment, each on the opposite side of the desk, drinking the tea. Wusheng looks down to the wooden plats on the desk before him. A slight grin crossing his face once more, he looks up to the ghost.  
  
"Do you play?" he asks, nodding down to the beaten boards.  
  
The ghost looks at him curiously at first, then down to the boards as Wusheng sets them together, assembling a gaming board. "Go." the ghost says softly.  
  
Go. The ancient game of strategy where players moved their 'armies', the coloured stones, about a board marked with lines running across the board. Each line is considered a path. Players attempt to surround the enemy's armies with his own. If all routes of an army were blocked by an opposing army, the army was defeated.   
  
"Care to play a game?" the sun elf asks pleasantly. The spirit takes a seat next to the demon hunter. Instead of speaking, he merely scoops up a handful of the white stones and places one on crossing lines, starting the game.  
  
The elf smiles, and places one of his own. He has always enjoyed this game.  
  
-------------  
  
Erin leans against the wall as a cool breeze blows gently down from the mountains. Master Chiang stands next to her, looking through a window.  
  
"I do not believe it." Master Chiang says in heavily accented common. It was the first time he had spoken since she found him looking through the window.  
  
"What?" she asks, suddenly curious. She peaks through the window to see the sun elf she had been traveling with sat across a desk from some kind of monk. "So? He is playing some kind of game with a monk? What is that, some form of chess?"  
  
The master of the monastery looks at her oddly. "The game is called 'go', but that is not what I meant. I meant the fact that he is playing a game with a gaki. A Jiki-ketsu-gaki, no less. Very evil." he adds, seeing the look on her face.   
  
"I fear he has been corrupted." Chiang-sifu says. As much as this bothers her, what he says next disturbs her more.  
  
"He must be destroyed."  
  
--------------  
  
Translations can be found at http://wuyausu.homestead.com/home.html under glossary. 


	8. protest

Due to recent Fanfiction.net policies of deleting writers works with no warning, even banning some writers (from what I hear), I am no longer going to post here.   
  
While none of my own stories have been edited or deleted, nor have I, obviously, been banned, I feel it is wrong of ff.net to merely delete stories or ban writers who have supported them. After all ff.net exists because of the writers, not the other way around.  
  
From now on, my most resent Kenshin stories can be found here:   
  
http://tfme.net/tfme/page.php?pageSelect=i2.  
  
I am also in the process of transfering all of my stories, such as Humanity and Humility and other AD&D stories, to my own format that can be found here:  
  
http://wuyausu.homestead.com/files/pages/home.html 


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